When in Rome...or Thailand, Rather.

It's been one full week. I believe I can officially say I am a resident of this foreign country. Living on the mainland (US), one can merely attempt to fathom the wonders of the world beyond the shores of "sea to shining sea". Crossing borders really does give a whole new meaning to the word 'foreign', especially in Asia. I thought I knew most of what I was about to encounter once I flew over the vast Pacific Ocean: similar to the US, only more rice, less blonde hair, and way better food. Ha! Well, that's a grain of sand on the tip of the iceberg. And THAT, my friends, is why I am in love with traveling. For the shear fact that every moment is a new experience, no matter how American you try to be.
The Thais are amazing people. I'm gaining a sturdy feel for these people, and though I must admit I was intimidated the first day or two, traipsing about and feeling like a sunflower in a field of red roses, I am finally (or already...not sure which is more appropriate or normal) beginning to feel comfortable in my own skin here. I know they probably view me as a foreigner and may be hesitant toward me, but I am learning when and at whom I can smile and be my friendly self, who I probably shouldn't trust right away, and now that I'm figuring out my surroundings and means of transport, I can relax and know I'll be okay. The stray dogs everywhere don't frighten me, the extremely uneven sidewalks that broke/expertly jammed my big toe on the first day are allowing my sandaled feet to get accustomed to them, and the brown, polluted air that teems with interesting and unpleasant scents is becoming less noticeable in my nostrils. Haha, whether these are positive things or not is for you to decide, but as for me, I'm categorizing them as steps toward adaptation.
I have been teaching since my second day here, and though it's been tremendously hectic and full of surprises and unknowns, I have made it through this far, and for that I give myself credit. Having never taught before, being thrown into a school that's religion is different from my own, in a new country where the students generally speak another language, having to figure out not only WHAT to teach, but also how, where, when, and who, having to learn public transportation systems that are new to me, a currency so different from my own, trying to decipher these things while suffering severe jet lag for 3 days straight, and surviving until the weekend is saying something. Don't get me wrong, I loved every minute of it, but I must say it has been one long week. And the toilet thing. Thais don't believe in toilet paper (how green of them), so the bathroom thing has been comical, as well. Little hoses beside the toilets (if you're lucky enough to get a stall with a Western toilet, as opposed to a squat toilet) quietly hang beside you as you're doing your business, as if you're not dreading the clean-up process afterward, not to mention the wet spot on the crotch of your pants for the next 20 minutes until it dries in the heat of the day. And as far as the traffic moving in the wrong direction, I always told myself I wouldn't fall victim to being the stupid American who forgot to TRULY look both ways when visiting countries such as this, yet there I was, more than twice, almost darting out into oncoming traffic, unaware of the flow. Oh, and once you think you have the traffic thing down, you still have to be on your toes because anything goes in Thailand as far as driving. There are no real speed limits posted or rules saying you MUST drive with the flow of traffic and not wherever you want. Motorcycles, if you can squeeze between two cars or between that curb and that bus, you are more than welcome to make your way through to arrive at your destination faster. If this means taking the sidewalk instead, so be it. Just watch out for the dogs lying in the middle of the road, the poles, stairs (to foot bridges), and hundreds of wires strung about the sidewalks. If you can fit 3 toddlers and an adult on your bike, that will save gas or an second trip, just like an industrial truck with no tailgate or door on the back containing 20 beer-drinking men in the back. It's ok. It's Thailand: the land of the happy and hopeful. We did just get flooded, but no worries, mate! Life is good. Grab some sand bags to slow down the cafe con leche-colored water and just wade through the rest. Just make sure you  take those wet shoes off before entering the house.
Oh, Thailand! Bangkok is, sadly to say, much cleaner than the province just northeastern part of the city in which I reside. 7.5 million people making their way leisurely amongst the innumerable street stall vendors, and the buses, tuk-tuks, saam thaws, motorcycles, taxis, vans, and all the other unidentifiable vehicles seems like it would all add up to chaos, and to a small town farmer, this may be true, but one can sense the laid back attitude of this version of Asian culture. It's so interesting to watch. I learn new words and how to say other ones correctly,  everyday. It's probably one of the highlights of my days here so far. That feeling of accomplishment one feels from being able to successfully communicate with someone from scratch is especially rewarding. How a person could not have the desire to attempt to communicate with the people whose country that individual is invading, and instead remain selfish enough to suffer because the locals won't come to level of the foreigner and speak that persons' language in THEIR country, is beyond me. Being immersed in a a foreign culture is such a cool experience that few actually have the opportunity to do, that I feel ashamed for those who are stubborn enough to not make an attempt. And sadly I am one of the few in my work environment who has taken the first steps to understanding this complex language that surrounds us everywhere we go. I want to be a local everywhere I go.  

180 Degrees Away From All I've Ever Known

Unfortunately, I had to leave the Big Island and fly to Honolulu (on Oahu) where hooked up with a couchsurfer named Bob, dropped my 150 pounds of luggage off at his work after hauling them around on the bus and about 3/4 mile through town. Ended up buying some surfwear that was surprisingly cheap at the huge, 4-level Ala Moana Shopping Center, headed across the street to Waikiki Beach, walked down the coral, white sand beach and into the salty crystal clear water. It'd been several months since I'd seen a white sand beach, so I was very appreciative. The sun beat down on my ripened skin as I lay there on my sari taking it all in. That night Bob took me to get fish tacos and then to the local scene at the Harbor Pub where Hawaiians serenaded the crowd with voice box-stimulating tunes and the bartender surprised us with all sorts of drinks and snacks and pizza. I found myself on my own 23-foot sailboat for the night under the stars and in front of a city-scape backdrop of lights reflecting gently on the harbor waters as I was rocked to sleep by the sounds of the tide lapping against the hull of the boat, fish jumping and chasing each other in a night feeding frenzy, and wind winding its way through the masts of 400 sailboats around me. Later that day after more miles of bussing and walking with my heavy bags (that need to be downsized), I found myself in the Tokyo airport. Then in Taipei, Taiwan, and a day and a half after departing Honolulu, I wounded up in Bangkok, Thailand in my new apartment above the FTC English Teaching Center. I've never had such a long flight, or sets them, never lost an entire day and a half to travel, nor have I ever had such an amazing experience flying. My first international flight opened my eyes to the Asian culture, which I now adore and completely respect (I might have had issues before). The service was impeccable, the food was incredible (I recommend requesting vegetarian because you get your food first, it's really good, and you get extra beverages :) ), and the Chinese are beautiful people. I couldn't stop watching them! I mean, I'm related to Chinese Americans, and I've interacted with all kinds of Asians, but there's something about seeing them in their element with other Asians, that's simply fascinating. I now have a new respect, for sure. Forgive me for somewhat judging in the past (gross). Tapei, Taoyuan looks so colorful and bursting with character and culture. I definitely want to visit and explore the land. Tokyo was very orderly and sophisticated-looking, also quite intriguing. Thailand, my new home for a year is very interesting. Granted, I am in the middle of the biggest and dirtiest city in the country, not to mention it's ranking in the world. I look forward to exploring the other, less populated and polluted parts of the country as soon as I get the chance. I will be teaching 5 classes of 11th graders Reading Comprehension (my worst subject in school, go figure), and they will be helping me improve my own skills, not only in comprehension, but also in the Thai language, Thai culture, and simply in how the teenage mind functions and perceives the world around it. To these things I look forward. I also have to bite the bullet and learn to love wearing Catholic School girl attire at St. Francis Xavier School. So, the flip side of the world is going to help me work on the things I haven't been the best at, so that I can better be the well-rounded individual I was set on this planet to be. I meet the students and Sisters tomorrow and the lessons begin the following day (October 27th). Can't wait!     

Time, Although Non-Existent, Somehow Manages to Fliy When You're on an Island

Much has happened since my last post, and I apologize, since "the little things" will be masked by the big things, and so on. I would attempt to recapture just the highlights, for the sake of time, but every moment since the last posting has been a highlight, hence the delay. With that said, here lie the moments since October 3, to the best of my memory. Ahem.
Arianna, a 29-year-old WWOOFer on the farm, has taken me to all kinds of warm healing ponds, tide pools, and champagne ponds that had gorgeous views of the sunrise, and breathtaking snorkeling (where you can open your eyes under water and see the marine life and coral and lava rocks below with only a slight blur). Most have "secret" tropical access roads that could easily be mistaken for hidden driveways, since nothing is really labeled in the Big Island jungle. There is also a green sand beach in the area that we didn't make it to, yet heard it was stunning, as one can imagine. Hitch hiking is the lifestyle on the island, and it's as safe as getting a ride from your best friend, probably easier. So, Kelly (a girl from NYC who's also staying on the farm), Arianna, and I did a good majority of our hitching excursions together, and encountered all SORTS of people. All are so very kind and friendly and giving and...unique. haha Very unique, each ride is. The backs of the trucks are my favorite, especially at night when you can look up and feel the peace of the night as the billions of stars against the black night sky peer down at you and smile. The silhouettes of towering albesia and palm trees are enough to make my night. Combine that with the scent of tropical fruits, white ginger, hibiscus, and latis pathis flowers, and you've got yourself some atmosphere! Top it off with good friends gathered around a bon fire all playing a handmade instrument, singing, dancing, or embracing another, all breathing the pure ocean air. I could go on and on. Every moment of every day is this good; I kid you not. If you are hungry, there's always a coconut and a machete with your name on it, some well-rounded concoction on the gas stove in the community kitchen made with nothing but fresh ingredients by a fellow WWOOFer, fresh-picked fruits, veggies, herbs, and spices in strainer-covered wooden bowls (to keep bugs away..for the most part), or huge leaves of deep, forest green spinach, eggplant, peppers, kale, lettuce, tomatillos, taro root, basil, ginger, etc etc begging to be plucked from the garden.
One evening before a day off, (Wednesdays and Sundays and every other afternoon) Ari and I took the free bus to Hilo, the nearest "big" city to see some waterfalls. Calvin, another guy from the farm, was staying in a hostel that same night and offered to let us crash with him. Being the adventurer that I am and the good sport that Ari is, we opted to make our way on our own ;-). It was dark by the time we'd arrived, but the night was still young, and so were we. We checked out the local Kava bar where delicious Dubstep (heavy electronic music) was blasting. The bartender, after realizing I was a Kava virgin, poured us a coconut shell full of the liquid, explained and guided us through the ritual hand-dipping and flicking and clapping gestures, and took the shots with us. Now, kava is non-alcoholic and 100% legal, yet sedating and is primarily consumed to relax without disrupting mental clarity. I decided to try the kava brownie since it resembled a chocolate blondie. How could I resist? Just after I'd taken the first bite, I realized my mouth felt as if I'd squeezed and entire tube of Oragel into my mouth. Completely numb and completely normal, so said the bartender. "How long will this last?" I asked. "I want to taste this delicious brownie." "Only about 2 more minutes," (about 8 minutes after drinking the kava) he said, pulling out concentrated tinctures of the stuff and pouring onto our tongues. "Try this!" he exclaimed with a smile. Great. This brownie is going to go to waste because I can't feel or taste it, I thought. haha The free kava did relax me and seem to clear my mind and allow me to focus better. We hung out with some more of the locals and at the end of a long night decided to find our sleeping area for the night. Yep, we were voluntarily homeless that night and enjoying every minute of it. I picked a nice spot on the ground up against a raised gazebo near the bus station, but overlooking the Bay and Coconut Island, where the sun would rise in a matter of hours. Two other homeless people were in the gazebo talking ALL night, which I ended up not minding, and instead considering our security for the night. I must say the ground was pretty hard and Hawaii can get chilly at night, and using 2 pairs or someone else's shoes as a pillow has it's pros and cons, but we woke up around 5:30 as the sun was contemplating joining us for the day, and we noticed several other people sleeping around our area. Who woulda thunk I'd pick the cool spot to crash! We strapped our bags to our backs, headed across the street to wash our faces and brush our teeth in the gas station bathroom, strolled through the market that was just being set up, and found ourselves in a truck with a Hawaiian man on our way up the hill to Akaka Falls. The walk through mammoth Avatar-like vegetation and the sight of a 420-foot waterfall were stunning, but there's no swimming allowed and the locals weren't around to show us the secret watering holes, so we hitched with some other French-speaking tourist (Fabio look-a-like and his girlfriend) and ended up getting a ride all the way to the Rainbow Falls where we could actually get wet. Walking up, you enter a cave-like covering, which is actually the root sysytem of a giant Banyon tree that I fell in love with. The tree actually covers about 1.5 acres! A local told us there is another one in the area that covers 6 acres!!! Holy Avatar, Batman! After peeling myself away from this tree and this man's knowledge of it, I caught up to Ari who was making her way through the narrow jungle path that opened up to a secluded watering hole with a lava rock wall and a huge tree with hanging vines that made it almost cave-like. Some form of berries constantly fell into the water below creating a musical kerplunk as I stripped off my clothes and tip toed into the mysteriously murky water. The water was cold at first, but became most refreshing once my body had been fully emerged. I swam over to where a dried up waterfall had gorged a path in the lava rock, hoisted myself out of the water, pushed my fingers', forearms' and toes' strength to the limit, and monkeyed my way up the rock wall and over and down to the other side where another, reachable waterfall stole my breath. Climbing down the rock without slipping on the wet, moss-covered parts was tricky, and at the bottom, I barely hesitated for a moment before diving in head first and swimming 100 yards to the fall. Ari swam around and met me and together we shared our permagrin under this fabulous natural shower on a ledge at the base. No one else was around, probably not daring enough to trek as far as we did on the rocks, but also not as rewarded. We swam back to where we each had started, but instead of climbing down where I had first climbed up the dried-up waterfall, I stood at the top of the wall, 15 feet up and noticed a rope camouflaged amongst the hanging vines that beckoned me. Ari flung it up to where I was just as a group of 5 tourists approached our tiny beach. I swung like Tarzan from the clifftop, swinging back and forth a few times before flailing into the silty water below. Cheers and applause greeted me once I surfaced, and I swam to shore to catch my breath, smile, and reflect. Catching the bus seemed like a bore so I introduced Ari to the amazing world of frozen yogurt and we ended up hitching all the way from Hilo back to our farm with a super cool native! People will actually go "out of their way" to take hitchhikers where they need to go. One kid was just driving around and said he lives on "Plan B" and Plan B that day was to pick up hitch hikers and take them to their destination. haha Lucky us! I never thought I'd be so happy to be someone's "Plan B" but it's all he wanted to do! No favors at all in return, just and Aloha and a smile.

FEELS LIKE FLOATING

I fall asleep with a smile on my face every night. That has never happened to this extent. There’s definitely something completely magic about this place that..it’s not that I can’t explain it, it’s just that this seems so right for me and normal that I almost feel no need to explain it..because it is just my life at this point, my everyday. But it’s 100% beautiful in every way fathomable. But I will, for the sake of sharing my life with those who wonder and dream about a life so different than theirs. This is what I am living. 

So the Hawaiian organic farm life is very rustic. It’s like living in a tropical jungle away from the chaos and hustle and bustle and stress of typical society on the mainland. There are papayas, mangos, avocados, jackfruit, lemons, tangerines, pineapples, galangal (Thai ginger), coconuts (duh), rollinia, ice cream bananas, eggplant, sweet potatoes, 4 types of spinach, lemon grass, basil, parsley, taro root, kale, star fruit, abiu, peppers, chili peppers, and many other herbs, veggies, and fruits whose names escape me. So, needless to say, I’m already in heaven because its all plentiful and I can eat so freshly and cheaply and nutritiously. There are currently 12 WWOOFERS here, who have been here from 3 days (myself) to 8 months. I almost want to postpone my flight to Thailand and just stay here for a lot longer. That’s how good it is, in case I haven’t emphasized that enough. There are small rustic cabins that most WWOOFERS live in. There’s a honeymoon suite or two that are occupied as well by WWOOFERS. There isn’t much rhyme or reason for the layout of this farm, and the cabins and such are sporadically placed about the general area. I moved to the far back near no one, in a screen covering under a larger tarp covering, basically in a tent amongst the avo, jackfruit, and tangerine trees.  There’s a communal kitchen area, a liberating shower area amongst the banana trees, and 2 adjacent toilet stalls with shower curtains as doors.

We work on the farm for 4 hours in the morning, more or less on our own time,  everyday but Sunday and Wednesday, doing all sorts of things from collecting the ripe fruit (“Fruit Run”) to washing galangal, shucking bean sprouts, and weeding. When I say weeding, I want you to picture huge banana trees, coconut palms, Hulu grass, vines everywhere, and other masses of tropical overgrowth.  It’s awesome. I’ve discovered my first allergies weeding here. I have elongated hickey-like spots all around my arms, long with other smaller red patches that burn pretty well. I tore out and old chicken wire fence today, and must claim the fact that it made me a blood donor for the day. No worries, though. I’m a big girl.

I hung my gymnastic rings from the jackfruit tree in my “backyard”, which simply warmed my heart. Yes, I monkeyed up this huge tree barefoot in my loin cloth, machete strapped to my back, reached out on a limb to secure each ring in place, hanging on with just my toes, and swung down to the ground on the huge vines that adorn it like tinsel, not too far from the way a fireman slides down a fire pole.

I was going to say yesterday was the best day I’ve experienced thus far in my life, but everyday here is the best day ever, no matter what happens or doesn’t happen. There are no let downs. They just don’t exist. It’s almost as if it were impossible to be anything less than on Cloud Nine. You can’t say that about too many places. Yesterday was our day off (Sunday), and 6 of us piled into Don (a dude who is buying a good chunk of the farm and who is basically the older, male version of me..no, seriously)’s ‘93 Toyota truck, cab and bed, and drove down the most mesmerizing road I have ever witnessed, with huge, hundred-year-old mango trees hosting vines with deep green, dinner-plate sized leaves crawling up the entire trunks, and about 50 other types of environments every 100 yards or so, mostly involving gorgeous trees reaching out over the road to hold hands with the ones on the other side, creating  such a picturesque scene, I’m pretty sure my hanging jaw allowed some drool to dive into my lap. About 15 minutes into the drive, we pulled over on the side of the road, following the lead of the other 20 cars, climbed down the black rock lava cliff, and were stopped halfway down by the breathtaking sight. 80-100 colorful people, some nude, some with drums, some doing backflips, some climbing the pole-size tree trunks that scaled the 50-foot cliff we’d just climbed down, and everyone just relaxing and enjoying paradise as the waves crash against the shore of this secluded black sand beach that the locals call Kahena. I practically melted as the black sand massaged my feet and between my toes and my senses  began to take in the whole realm of this exotic wonderland . The deep, dark heavy blue Pacific beckoned me instantaneously. My heart began to flutter like a butterfly as I stripped off my clothes and answered the call of the sea. I immediately felt my soul come to life, as if my life at that point was confirmed. I was where I was meant to be. A very friendly dude named Joeltita was checking out the colorful parrotfish and ahi tuna swimming about, when he surfaced with a grin and a handful of red lima (sea weed) he had just picked. With no hesitance to share, he informed me that it was great for vegetarians, and it was delicious!  Talk about fresh! The drum circle on shore was thumpin’ and full of dancers, yet I couldn’t get myself to leave the water, so I danced in the thickness of the sea, as other swimmers greeted me every few minutes with an “Aloha” and a smile. The show from the water was the best seat in the house, in my opinion. I couldn’t stop watching an adorable 6-year-old boy with long blonde dreads slide down the beach with his knees on his boogie board, hit the water, and catch about 2 feet of air over and over again. If this wasn’t enough, a rainbow appeared over the caves off to the right of the crowd, and winked in my direction. Bliss. Pure bliss. The sky began to sprinkle down on us in light wet droplets as we trekked back up to the car. Ending up at a tiny local, outdoor restaurant, you better believe I had a huge slab of fresh ahi on a sandwich with a salad to top it off. I thought the day couldn’t get any better, but the conversations with the people I live with, watching Going To America with Don, and filling my lungs with air so pure I feel like I’m not breathing. I’m in the most isolated place on Earth and yet I don’t feel the least bit “alone”. If I do, it’s more like personal, alone time that is necessary for me to function in this life. And here I am. Mind, body, and soul. Satisfied beyond words.

   

COCKADOODLE DOO!

10.2.10                 

Aloha! I made it to the little town of Pahoa, HI! Even further, I have spent my first of 20 nights in my new home! It’s 5:30A.M., and I am wide awake, thanks to the roosters on the other side of my screen door and my eyelids that didn’t hesitate to fall heavily with the sunset around 7 P.M. Considering my 17-hour day of traveling yesterday carrying 100 pounds of baggage on 3 measly hours of shut-eye, and a 6-hour time change from what I’ve been used to, I had no problem stretching out on a futon and entering dreamland at such an early hour. Adjusting to the time zones is going to be interesting.

After a fun-filled night in San Francisco at the Matt & Kim show, losing my wallet in the swaying mob of people, having it miraculously returned to me at the end of the show, all contents accounted for, (not to mention losing my phone the day before and having it returned to me in mint condition that morning, I am starting to gain faith in humanity. And, of course, in the angels that trace my every move.  

I’m not going to lie and tell you that the 5-hour flight to Honolulu from San Fran was a piece of cake. It is, sadly, the longest flight I’ve encountered thus far, and it did make me well aware of the amount of sleeping pills and mind-consuming activities I’m must seek out in order to stay sane on the long journey to Thailand in three weeks. Flying into Hawaii was absolutely breathtaking, though, as one can probably imagine. Being from the beach, I felt my soul come to life again and the saltwater race through my veins. It felt so natural.  Tropical vegetation as far as the eye can see, waterfalls pounding into lazy rivers below, and tiny, yet comfortable little abodes tucked in beneath the vibrantly colorful plant life. Not to mention the swells rolling in all along the coastline, beckoning me to come play. I can already tell Hawaii is one place I will have to revisit.

The Honolulu airport was playing Hawaiian music, many things were written in Hawaiian, everyone was adorned in fresh-flower leis, and the magazine shops were mostly surfing magazines. The airline magazine in the seat-back pocket on the inter-island flight was basically a local surfing mag, as well. This sort of place only exists in my dreams, so I thought. was I had a few hours to kill before the short jaunt to the Big Island from Oahu, so I grabbed a “101 Things to Do on the Big Island” magazine, my ridiculous pile of luggage, and marched outside into the 74-degree sun to soak up some rays. I don’t doubt I looked homeless, but it sure wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t be the last. Just prior to walking out on the tarmac to board the little toy plane to Hilo, I met a man by the name of Fantuzzi. What an interesting character he was! Born and raised in New York City, he’s been to 76 countries, every U.S. state, and he makes a living playing afro-beat, reggae-funk music. He gave me the name of the place at which he’s playing Monday night and said it’d be a great place to meet some people. Sounds like a good time to me!

The sun is rising now, and the day awaits me. I’m going to be joining the other WWOOFers today doing some work with some roots. That is all I know at this point. Well, I do know that I can’t wait to shower and brush my teeth. The farm is like a jungle and my search for the bath house in the dark was unsuccessful, so I’m looking forward to getting to know the area like the back of my hand.

Side note: I’m currently watching a live cockfight on the other side of the door, and I must say it’s quite amusing. They are sooo loud! BOCK BOCK BOCK BIGOCKKKKK! Haha. Wow. I’m excited to say this will soon all be normal.